


Where There's Smoke, There's Fire

by outlier



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 16:19:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outlier/pseuds/outlier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She heard her name just as the herbs took flame. It was the matter of a split second, of Kahlan kneeling down beside her small fire, smiling, and breathing deep. She could tell what had happened when Kahlan gasped. Her eyes rolled back and she swayed, and Cara had to move quickly to catch her before she toppled into the fire. There was nothing to do but wait and see what would happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where There's Smoke, There's Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Fourth Annual Femslash Kink Meme on DW. The prompt was: Cara tries a spell, but it doesn't turn out how she thought. Spelled Kahlan. Given that Kahlan's under the influence of powerful magic, consider this dubcon at best.

A simple memory spell, something she should be able to do with no problem. She didn’t have Rahl’s magic, didn’t have Zedd’s, but hard to find herbs, fire, and words were something she could manage on her own. Privacy, apparently, was something she couldn’t.

“Cara?”

She heard her name just as the herbs took flame. It was the matter of a split second, of Kahlan kneeling down beside her small fire, smiling, and breathing deep. She could tell it had happened when Kahlan gasped, when her eyes rolled back and she swayed, and Cara had to move quickly to catch her before she toppled into the fire. Once it had happened, there was nothing to do but wait and see what would happen.

Cara didn’t have to wait very long. In moments, Kahlan was scowling. She was staring down at her white dress as if it was an abomination and then at Cara’s hair, loose and at her shoulders, as if that was somehow worse.

Once again, her traveling companions had managed to infiltrate every aspect of her life, wanted or no. She'd wanted nothing more than a moment of respite from their goodness, a taste of what she no longer had to quell the yearning inside of her that missed things she could no longer have. And now, she wouldn’t be remembering what life was like among her sisters, Cara realized, but Kahlan would.

“What is this?” Kahlan asked, her hand in Cara’s hair and pulling hard before Cara had time to react. She stood, pulling them both to their feet. Her eyes were steely, the set of her jaw hard.

When Cara hesitated, trying to formulate an answer that would make sense to Kahlan in her altered state, Kahlan acted. Cara’s head snapped to the side with the force of the backhanded blow to her cheek. She might have tumbled to the ground had Kahlan’s other hand not been at her neck, holding her still.

She tasted a hint of blood at the corner of her mouth.

Kahlan stepped in close, her words a snarl. “Where is your braid?”

There was no remedy for this, Cara knew. Kahlan would be lost in the memory until the spell burned out of her system, and there was no way to fight it. There was no way to fight her, not when it wasn’t her fault, and so Cara was going to have to find a way to make it through without either hurting Kahlan or getting herself killed.

“Cut on Lord Rahl’s orders,” she said, sure to keep her gaze averted downward. “He wanted me to try to infiltrate the Seeker’s circle of protectors.”

The grip on her neck eased slightly. “And did you?”

“I am making progress.” The hand tightened again, enough to make it hard for her to breathe. “Mistress.”

This time, Kahlan used the flat of her palm. “It seems that you’ve been away from us for too long, Sister. You’ve picked up bad habits.”

Although Cara wasn’t sure if Kahlan’s Confessor magic could manage to permeate the spell, she had no desire to test her. “I’m sorry, Mistress,” she said, uncomfortably aware of the hand at her throat. “Please forgive me.”

Kahlan’s grip eased slightly, but her hand stayed in place. “Where are my leathers?” she asked angrily. “Why am I wearing this… this…”

“It is your role, Mistress,” Cara said quickly, searching for an explanation that would appease this Mord'Sith version of Kahlan. “Lord Rahl has tasked you with posing as a Confessor. We are working together.”

Kahlan seemed to consider the explanation.

“We should get back,” Cara added. She could lead Kahlan in circles until the spell wore off. Not back to Richard, of course, because there was no way to predict what Kahlan might do.

“There’s no rush.” Kahlan’s voice had a smooth, dark quality that Cara had never heard from her before, but she recognized the glint in her eyes. Not that she had seen it in Kahlan’s eyes before, but Cara knew it well and knew well what it meant. “We should see to it that you remember your place.”

She had to try, before this went further. “Kahlan…”

The hand on her throat tightened suddenly, angrily, choking off the rest of her words. A backhand followed, chased by an open palm cracking against her other cheek.

“Where is my agiel?”

Cara’s ears were ringing. “You were forced to leave it behind, Mistress,” she said, the taste of blood heavier on her tongue now. “It would have given you away.”

“And yours?”

“At camp,” Cara lied, no more willing to die from an agiel to the heart than she was by confession.

“You’ve gotten sloppy,” Kahlan spat, giving Cara a shove. She stumbled back into a tree, connecting hard with its trunk. “You don’t deserve those leathers. Take them off.”

Cara obeyed. She was, after all, Mord’Sith, and well trained, and it would be futile for her to try and deny the effect Kahlan’s words and actions were having on her.

“You see that branch,” Kahlan said moments later, unfazed by Cara’s nudity. “Wrap your hands around it. Do not let go.”

It was high enough that Cara was forced onto tip-toe in a full body stretch to do as commanded. She watched as Kahlan explored the small glade and the few belongings Cara had brought with her. From her frown, Cara gathered that she wasn’t satisfied with what she saw. The silence stretched as Kahlan backtracked, taking her time in search of whatever it was that she wanted.

The object of her search became clear a moment later when she selected a thin young branch and used her dagger to cut it free. It was but the work of a minute to strip it of leaves and bark. Kahlan swung her arm to test it, and it seemed to sing as it cut through the air.

Cara squirmed.

Soon after, the strikes began to land with uniform precision, and Cara’s hands tightened around the branch as her body surged forward, instinctively fleeing the pain. They started at mid-thigh – and the skin was so tender there, she’d forgotten how much – moved up and over the curve of her ass to her lower back and then higher still, each leaving behind a searing line of fire on flesh no longer used to such things. She was breathing hard through clenched teeth in an effort not to cry out, though it was becoming increasingly difficult; the wood was biting into her, each lash threatening to be the one to break through her stoicism.

She could feel the tickle of wind against the welts left on her back; they would last for days, she knew, and felt a measure of pride.

Suddenly, Kahlan was before her. “I see you haven’t forgotten everything,” she said, almost fondly.

And then she began again. This time, the switch started at the tops of her breasts and worked its way down her belly and to her thighs. Her shoulders were aching. The muscles in her forearms had gone dull with the effort of holding onto the branch, and there was barely an inch of her that didn’t sing with pain.

How she had missed this.

“I wish you could see how beautiful you look,” Kahlan said, pausing long enough to lean forward for a hard kiss. Cara returned it; she let Kahlan’s tongue slip into her mouth, and, later, gasped as teeth closed on her lower lip.

She wished she could have found it surprising when she felt the switch between her legs, sliding back and forth. She was slippery wet, shamelessly wet.

When Kahlan brought the switch up for her to see, it was coated. Almost by instinct, she opened her mouth to accept it, biting down on the slim length and holding it between her teeth.

“With pain comes pleasure,” Kahlan murmured, her hand already between Cara’s legs. “With punishment, reward.”

It wasn’t right, but Cara couldn’t have moved away even if she’d wanted to try.

“Go ahead, Cara,” Kahlan said, her voice sing-song soft. “Take your pleasure.”

Cara did. She ground herself against Kahlan’s fingers, hips moving frantically. “Thank you, Mistress,” she gasped, hands tightening on the branch. “Thank you.”

Her subsequent cry of pleasure echoed through the forest.

She moved slowly the next day. Carefully. Her hands were raw.

“I’m sorry,” Kahlan whispered to her, over and over.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Cara reassured her. Mistress, she added silently.


End file.
